Four Times Georg and Otto
by live2tivo
Summary: ...Acted Like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Whether They Knew it or Not . Please Review


**Title: **Four Times Georg and Otto Acted Like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Whether They Knew it or Not)  
**Author**: Tally/Live2TiVo/MusicalJunkie  
**Rating:** PG/PG-13  
**Pairing:** Georg/Otto  
**Word Count:** (optional) 1,125  
**Summary:** Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are the comic relief in Hamlet. They have pointless exchanges and seem to be inseparable. Georg and Otto are the same way (at least in the case of this fic)  
**Notes**: This was written for a fanfiction exchange on LiveJournal. I was given three words and a pairing. The three words were: carousel, sheet music, and milkshake.

* * *

**1.**

Georg and Otto were always the last ones to leave. Well, not always, but when they weren't the last ones to leave, it was only because they wanted to give someone privacy or wanted to avoid confrontation or because Georg had a piano lesson. Okay, so maybe they usually left somewhere in the middle. However, Georg and Otto liked to think they were always the last ones to leave, because, honestly, they really didn't have much else going for them. In their class, everyone had _something _that defined them. Ernst was the tall, gangly one; Melchior was the daring one; Moritz was the spazzy one; Hanschen was the slightly creepy one; even Bobby Mahler was the sexy one. Georg and Otto were thusly left with very few options for their own superlatives. So, they decided to be the last ones to leave. It wasn't much, but it was something.

They stood outside the church on Sundays waiting for the supremely old Frau Ichenswistenburger to inch her way down the path. They took small, precise bites of food at meals, so they'd be the last ones to leave the table. They even offered to clean slates after class so they could be the last ones to leave school. Unfortunately, their attempts at being the last ones to leave were going unnoticed by their peers.

"This isn't working, Otto." Georg lamented as they sat on the bridge waiting for Thea and Anna to finish picking flowers.

"The bridge? It seems to be working just fine." Otto looked down at the wooden planks and tapped them cautiously to verify his statement.

"Not the bridge, the being the last ones to leave thing. Nobody has said a single thing about it. Maybe we're just wasting our time."

Otto considered this for a moment. "Maybe."

"Do you want to go back to my house?"

"Okay."

Georg and Otto stood up and headed to Otto's house.

"That's odd." Thea commented.

"What's odd?" Asked Anna as she picked a lilac flower.

"Georg and Otto leaving like that. I've always thought of them as the last ones to leave."

* * *

**2.**

"I don't know what this is." Otto surveyed the paper in front of him with a curious expression.

"It's sheet music, Otto."

"I got that much, Georg. I just don't understand why you're showing it to me."

"Fraulein Grossenbustenhalter is making me learn this whole song by Monday. From memory!"

"So…" Otto couldn't understand why Georg was so upset. Fraulein Grossenbustenhalter had made him memorize pieces before and Georg never had a problem with it then.

"_So_, I have to have this whole thing memorized by _Monday_. That's only four days!"

"You'll have the weekend to work on it. I'll help you."

"You don't know how to play piano."

"You could teach me."

"I don't have time to teach you! I have to learn this song!"

"But, if you taught me how to play piano, I could help you learn the song. Then we'd both come out on top!"

"It takes a long time to learn piano. You can't learn everything in one weekend."

"So why does she expect you to learn that whole song in one weekend?"

"Because I already know _how _to play piano."

"Then you should have no problem learning the song if you already know how to play piano, right?"

"You don't get it, Otto!"

"Maybe you're the one who doesn't get it, Georg!"

"Get what?"

Otto paused. "I don't remember." He looked at the paper that was still in his hand. "What is this?"

"It's sheet music, Otto."

* * *

**3. **

"Do you want to hear something weird?" Georg asked Otto as they walked home from school one day.

Otto thought about it for a moment before responding "Sure."

"The other day, I was walking past the vineyard, and I heard Ernst and Hanschen talking about milk of all things! Why would two people sit in a vineyard and talk about milk?"

"I don't know. Maybe if the two people were dairy farmers or perhaps in the market for a milk cow. Or, maybe even if they were two people who have wives who make butter."

Georg sighed. Everything was a chore with Otto involved. "But they weren't dairy farmers and they weren't looking at cows, and, as far as I know, neither of them are married. It was just Ernst and Hanschen! Surely there had something more interesting they could have discussed."

"Oh, I don't know. Milk _can _be pretty intriguing at times."

"Sure…such as…"

"Such as all of its different uses. You can cook with it. You can make cheese with it. You can make butter with it. You can make, uh…"

Georg smiled; Otto had just talked himself into a corner. "See! Milk _is _boring!"

"Milkshakes! You can make milkshakes with milk!"

"And what, may I ask, is a milkshake?"

"Er…it's my own invention. You take a glass of milk and you shake it before you drink it."

Georg laughed, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You can't _shake _milk without it starting to curd. It'd be like drinking cheese!"

"Have you ever tried a cheese drink?"

"No."

"Well, it's very tasty. Just like milkshakes." Otto nodded in agreement with himself.

"I think I'll stick with regular milk. I quite like not gagging, thank you very much."

"Milkshakes are better than your choice of plain old milk."

Georg sighed. He was ready for this conversation to be done—milk was boring. "Perhaps you're right. Your 'drink' may be better than mine."

"Damn, right! It's better than yours."

* * *

**4. **

Their conversations were like carousels. They went around and around for stretches of time, but they never actually got anywhere, and, by the time they were moving forward, they were off the ride.

"I really hate Ovid." Otto lamented one day after a particularly grueling Latin class.

"We're reading Virgil."

"I know, but we read Ovid last year, and I got really used to his style, and now we're reading Virgil, and it's really different."

Georg took a moment in an attempt to comprehend Otto's argument, but it still didn't make any sense. "That makes no sense at all. Virgil is actually _easier _to read."

"Is not." Retorted Otto.

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

They paused for a moment.

"Is not."

"Is too."

They went around and around and around. The carousel that was their conversation showed no sign of stopping until…

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Hey, Georg."

"Yeah, Otto?"

"Want to make out?"

"Okay."

Well, all carousels have to stop eventually.


End file.
